We Can Go Together
by Abyssion
Summary: Jim and Pam are together, and their dreams are finally starting to come true. Thoroughly enjoying life, they are as vicious toward Dwight as ever, and couldn't be happier. But the time is coming quickly when they will have to ask themselves, "What next?"
1. Prologue

_A/N: This is my first fanfic in a _very_ long time. I have been reading a lot of Office fanfiction lately, however, and just felt like I really wanted to write something. This is a somewhat random idea that came to me while I was contemplating the day when The Office would have its series finale (may that day be a long way off). Anyway, I was thinking about ways the series might end, and I thought of a few things._

_This story begins during the winter of season four, a year after Jim would have been in Stamford. Obviously, Jim and Pam are together now. But where is the story going to go next? One of the points repeatedly made in the show is that no one wants to be an office drone – everyone has dreams that they want to fulfill, but not necessarily the drive or means to pursue them. _

_This story consists of my impressions of Jim and Pam, after they are together. We all know they are thinking about where they are going to go next, and we all know that they can do anything they want while they are together. _

_It may be sounding very dramatic – I promise, it will have humor, and characters besides Jim and Pam. I'm just outlining the main plot for you. Anyway, this opening chapter is very short, and sort of sets the stage for Pam. Enjoy, and remember that I don't own anything having to do with The Office or its characters. A lawsuit from someone as big as the National Broadcasting Company scares me. A little bit. _

* * *

A gentle snow was falling over Scranton, Pennsylvania. The rolling hills around the town were hidden in grey fog, as the low grey buildings slowly bore the weight of more and more little flakes of ice. The sun had only just risen behind the clouds.

A plainly dressed woman strode out into the parking lot of an apartment complex, moving toward a blue Toyota Yaris. She opened the door, settled herself inside, and started the ignition.

Pam Beesly blasted the heat of her car, trying to scrunch herself up inside of her coat and unflattering business shirt as she drove through the frigid winter air.

It was the mornings like this where her thoughts went wild – the weather like this where she had the deepest thoughts about… well, anything.

Her windshield wipers flicked snowflakes off of the glass as her mind swirled away to the place where it always returned to, no matter what digression had called it away. Nine months, it had been. Nine months since that glorious, sunny day when she had felt like she was strong enough to let a dream she had had for what seemed like an eternity go.

"_I haven't heard anything… but I'd bet Jim got the job. I mean, why wouldn't he? He's totally qualified, and smart… everyone loves him. And… if he never comes back again, that's okay. We're friends. And I'm sure we'll stay friends. We just, we never got the timing right, you know? I shot him down, and then he did the same to me… but you know what? It's okay. I'm totally fine. Everything is going to be totally – "_

And then he'd come in, back from New York. He'd come back to her, only when she'd realized who she truly was inside.

Pam wasn't normally a very spiritual person – she liked to think of herself as very down-to-earth, in fact. But in her journey with Jim – in her journey to be with him – she felt like there had been some kind of guidance, some kind of intervention that had lead her to that one moment in the conference room. That moment when she had seen who she truly was, because it was in that moment that everything she had ever wanted and every dream she had ever had began to come true.

A smile spread itself across her face as her car bumped across the dip in the road and into the parking lot of the Scranton Business Park.

A year ago, a snowy Monday morning drive to the office would have made her question the very merit of living at all. She would go through the bleak weather to a bleak office where vulgar, insensitive people said vulgar, insensitive things to her. She would fight her way through the offensive comments and the jungle of paper and ringing telephones to the end of the day, where she would drive back through the much-thicker snow to her apartment, where she would cry until she felt like she wouldn't ever cry again.

But now, as she rode the elevator up to the second floor of the office building, a slight excitement was bubbling up in her, from the bottom of her stomach, all the way up to her fast-beating heart. Her steps quickened as she rounded the corner and saw the clear door declaring itself to be the entrance to the Scranton branch of Dunder-Mifflin Paper Products. She pushed it open and walked inside, past the window into her idiot of a boss' office, and around the corner.

There he was. He had been leaning toward the door, clearly eager to see who was arriving. He stood up.

"Good morning, Beesly. Are you aware that you are one and three-quarters of a minute late?"

The snow gently fell outside.

_

* * *

_

I know it isn't a lot yet, but please review! Flames and all other forms of criticism are welcome. Although, if you want to make my day and leave me a compliment, that's fine, too.


	2. Plans and Jellybeans

_A/N: Here's the first real chapter. More notes at the end. Enjoy. (THURSDAY IS GOING TO BE THE BEST DAY __EVER__!!)_

* * *

"Absolutely, sir. Yep. Thank you so much. You, too."

Jim Halpert hung up his phone, having just closed his second sale of the day. He leaned back in his chair, glancing toward reception. Pam had caught the tail end of his conversation, because she raised her arm for an air-five.

After dropping his arm, he got up and walked over to her. "Impressed? Two sales before lunch. Of… paper." He made a face, clearly wondering what could be more important than paper supplies, and picked out a jellybean.

She smiled at him, but then looked at him sternly. "You know, I think it's very self-destructive of you to downplay the importance of your job. You were selling to a school, weren't you? You may have saved a child from a felony-ridden future just now."

"Yep and um… I'm cheating on you with Dwight. I thought you needed to know." She giggled. "Speaking of which, I've been thinking that it might be fun to have a little art party at your place, which would include painting some of the yellow and other Dwight-repulsive flavored jellybeans in there" – he indicated the jellybean jar – "black. And removing all of the actual black ones. What do you think?"

Pam was doubled over laughing at the thought. After recovering some control, she was able to choke out, "Oh, are we mean? I think we are."

Jim scoffed. "Pam, please. If we can get him to think the jellybeans have been cursed by the living computer or something… that isn't mean, that's genius."

"Come on over whenever you want, then," she said, the laughter still in her eyes. It vanished completely when she realized that Michael had come out of his office and heard her telling Jim to come to her apartment.

"Oh, what!? Pam! Feeling so desperate you can't even wait until the weekend for sex with Jim!?"

Jim rolled his eyes at Pam. He turned around, leaned against the desk, and looked at Michael. "Wait… are you saying Jan has to wait until the weekends to get intimate with you, Michael? Because either that is one unhealthy relationship, or you have someone waiting eagerly for you to get home." He looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "You know what, as a matter of fact… I think you should go and check on that."

After only a moment's thought, Michael said, "You know what, Jim? You're right. I'm going to go and see if my girlfriend is satisfied with her love life. You're in charge." And with that, he went into his office, put on his coat, and walked out the door.

Pam applauded as Jim took a bow.

XXX

Long after the sun had set that evening, Pam and Jim sat cross-legged on the floor next to the low coffee table in her apartment. Each one of them had a paper plate with a gob of black, non-toxic paint on it, and a little bowl of yellow, green, and blue jellybeans next to them.

"So… what do you want to do this weekend?" Jim asked as he delicately brushed a black skin onto a green jellybean.

"Well, I've got an early art class Saturday, but you'll probably be asleep until it's over anyway… you want me to pick you up afterward so we can have lunch?" she asked. She picked a yellow jellybean out of her bowl.

"Absolutely I do." They sat in companionable silence for a minute or so, the only sound being a gentle clink when one of them would pick up another jellybean.

"You know what we should do afterwards?" he asked. A small smile was growing on his face as he thought about how excited Pam was about to be. "I was looking through the Philadelphia Inquirer yesterday, and I noticed a listing for an art show at a gallery over there, and I was thinking that I could take you down there and we could spend the night."

Pam eyes widened as her face lit up. "Jim, that sounds amazing! But… do _you_ really want to go?"

Jim laughed. "If I get to spend the night in Philadelphia with you? Yeah, that's an offer I'm really going to turn down." They looked at each other for a few seconds, enjoying their mutual happiness, and then each picked up their last jellybeans.

After setting all of the disguised candies out to dry on a paper towel, they flopped onto her couch, Jim quickly gathering Pam up into his arms. He sighed contentedly, and closed his eyes. Pam smiled slightly as she reached over and grabbed a brush and one of the paint plates, and began to paint Jim's nails.

Jim opened his eyes and laughed as she brushed black paint onto his left pinky. "What do you think you are doing, Beesly?" She giggled, and continued destroying her boyfriend's dignity.

After Pam finished her abuse, there was a period of silence as she leaned against his chest as it rose and fell. It was these moments that she had so longed for, for such a very long time. It was these moments when she thought about how quickly everything could change.

"Jim…?" He grunted to let her know he was listening. "What was it exactly that made you come back?" He turned her around to face him, wide awake again.

"Don't you know that?" he asked, chuckling slightly.

"Well, yeah, I'm pretty sure I do – but was there a moment of revelation, or something like that?"

"It was your note. The one you left in my file of quarterly numbers and stuff, with the old medal from our Olympics… are you really telling me you hadn't figured that out? C'mon, Bees." She smacked him with a laugh.

"I did have a hunch, but I wanted to make sure… you know, I was so sure you were going to get the job. And after I had announced all of what I really felt about everything at the beach, I was beginning to feel like maybe I would make it. Maybe I _could_ move on without you. I just wanted your friendship – that thing we had always had as a guarantee, you know…? Wow, I am being so sappy right now it's making _me_ sick."

Jim laughed and said, "Well, maybe, but to answer your question… what you said – 'don't forget us when you're famous' – it just reminded me that I wasn't going to be able to feel really happy moving up in the world unless you were with me. See, dreams coming true – a bigger job, a bigger house and all of that – those dreams wouldn't have meant too much to me if I didn't have you."

They looked at each other tenderly for a few more seconds after that, then burst out laughing.

"You know, Bees, I think it might be too late and I might be too tired for this kind of conversation," he chuckled. "I've got to go home, seeing that we _do_ have work tomorrow."

She groaned, and hugged him, saying "Alright, then." She opened the door for him, but as he kissed her and stepped out, she grabbed his hand.

"You know, I think Michael might actually be right about me."

Jim's jaw dropped. After recovering, he folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her with raised eyebrows. "Pam Beesly, I never want to hear those words out of your mouth ever again – now… what is it you are referring to?"

She looked down, fighting hard to keep from bursting out laughing. "Well… maybe I _am_ too desperate. Maybe I _can't _wait until the weekend for you to spend the night with me."

A sly smile spread across his face. "Is my toothbrush still available?"

She pulled him back into the apartment, laughing.

XXX

Dwight Schrute stepped up to reception.

"Hi, Dwight!" Pam said brightly as Dwight reached into the jellybean jar and picked out a black bean.

"Good morning, Pam. What reason do you have to be so happy this morning?" he said as he popped the bean into his mouth. Pam watched carefully as Dwight's face turned inscrutable. He looked angrily at the jar, and picked out another "black" bean. And another, and another. He swallowed, and turned slowly to face the office.

"I have an announcement to make. It is my belief that this jellybean jar has been infected with a strain of a supermold recently discovered in Central America. It was discussed on the news last night."

Jim raised his eyebrows with mock curiosity. "Really, Dwight?" He leaned back in his chair to get a look at the jar. "They look fine to me."

Dwight looked at him pityingly. "Fine, Jim. Enjoy your jellybeans, and don't cry to me when you have fungus growing out of the top of your head." He returned to his desk, muttering.

Jim and Pam air-fived the moment Dwight wasn't looking.

* * *

_The two reviews that I have received so far just made me feel so warm inside! Wow I am desperate. Anyway, I would love more! I beg of you, CRITICIZE! It helps so much. Of course, I love hearing about how fabulous I am, also. I will try to have at least weekly updates, just to let you know. I also must tell you that my self-discipline is next-to-none, so, thought it pains me to say this, don't be surprised if this story suddenly dies. I will try not to let it, though! I've already started chapter 3, so maybe it'll turn out okay in the end! Anyway, review!_


	3. Philadelphia

_A/N: Okay, I now present to you chapter three of We Can Go Together, titled "Philadelphia", for very obvious reasons. I would also like to say that I deserve congratulations for successfully completing a third chapter of a story. This is the first time I've made it this far into a fic. I am still attempting to figure out where all of this motivation is coming from… ha-ha. Additionally, this required some research – my descriptions of the city are based on Wikipedia articles, Google Image Searches, and memories from when I took a trip there a couple of years ago. Not that you care. All I can say now is: enjoy! Oh, I also don't own anything having to do with The Office or its characters or anything, really. That's all NBC's. Oh, and I also don't own Sea Wolf's lyrics, much as I would love to. Please, you wonderful band, I paid for your music, don't sue me… _

* * *

The town of Scranton flashed past the windows of Jim's SAAB. The buildings became more and more spaced out until Pam and Jim were riding south through true Pennsylvanian countryside. Jim had put in a CD, and the pale February sun shone into the car from the east as it climbed.

"You know, you look very dashing in sunglasses. I've never seen you wear them before," Pam commented, observing Jim's new – as he had called them while trying to cover some strange embarrassment – 'shades'.

He smiled. "It was in my best interests today to _not_ crash the car. It would be a tragedy if I didn't get to view the art show."

Pam glanced at him sidelong. "It has nothing to do with your precious cargo?"

Jim's eyebrows crunched, and Pam knew that behind his sunglasses, his eyes were showing that he was deep in thought. "Um… I'm not sure what you're referring to."

Pam hit him. "Oh, shut up," she said as she finally let out the laugh she'd been holding.

"Hey, don't hit the driver. I'm sure Dwight would be citing a statistic saying some percentage of crashes are caused by distractions to the driver from inside the car, if he was here right now," Jim said in a lecturing tone.

"Oh, let's just be thankful he's not," Pam said, rolling her eyes.

"Amen."

They sat in warm silence for a while, admiring the leafless trees and washed-out blue sky that swished past them. The sweet, poetic music of Sea Wolf, Jim's latest musical obsession, filled the car. Suddenly, a certain lyric caught Pam's ear:

_Well, the weather out here is just the same, but the garden that you planted remains._

"What's this song called?" she asked, the sweet music and symbolic lyrics continuing to fill the car.

"The Garden You Planted," Jim said, glancing at her. "Do you like it?"

She was quiet for a moment. "I like it a lot."

_Well, everyone around me's changed, but the garden that you planted remains._

As the forest around them continued to thicken, a bright smile lifted her face.

XXX

"I think we've got to be almost there by now… we've been driving for almost two hours… What time did you say the show starts, Pam?" Jim asked, flicking his right blinker and looking over his shoulder.

Pam rifled through her purse, looking for the newspaper clipping. "The gallery doesn't open 'till two. Wow, we _did_ leave early, didn't we?" she said, stuffing the clipping back into her purse and glancing at the clock in the dash. "It's only noon."

"Well, Philadelphia _is_ kind of a big city, I'm sure we'll find something to do," he said with a smirk. "We could drop by the Museum of Art and run up the steps while singing the "Rocky" theme," he said seriously. Pam giggled. "You will probably be going there a lot at some point anyway, to give tours of the exhibits of your art that the city will undoubtedly want to feature."

Pam was blushing now. "Please, Jim. You give me too much credit – you're the only one who likes them," she said, though she couldn't deny to herself that his words did make her feel warm and proud to a degree that she hadn't felt… ever.

"Think whatever you want," Jim said as he cruised down an off ramp and onto the surface streets of the city, knowing that he had won the sparring match. "We still don't know what we're going to occupy ourselves with for a couple of hours here, though."

"Well, let's just find the gallery, park near it, and we can, I don't know… walk around," she said brightly. The truth was, she didn't too much care _what_ they did for the next two hours – she was with Jim, and she was going to get to take him to an art gallery. She had been dreaming of this day for a very long time.

When they found the gallery, Jim drove around a few blocks until he found a place to parallel park (Pam had been very impressed by his ability to do this – she had always found it impossible). With his car safely tucked in along the curb, Jim came around to Pam's side of the car and opened the door for her.

"Thanks," she said with a smile that he returned. He took her hand, and they started up the street.

"Seriously, Pam, if you see anywhere you want to go, let me know, because I am wandering pretty aimlessly right now," Jim said, smiling down at her.

"So am I," she said, laughing as she pulled him around a random corner. They walked like this for a while, enjoying the energy of the historic city and the freedom they had to do whatever they wanted together. Eventually they found themselves walking down a narrow cobblestoned street, with four-or-five story apartment buildings rising up on either side of them.

They slowed as they craned their necks up to admire the little balconies that came off of all of the sliding glass doors of the apartments. Some had chairs set out on them, and others had little flower boxes – not vibrant this time of year, of course, but the fact that they were there gave a homey feeling to the little alley.

"Look, Jim... terraces… sort of," Pam said, a smile playing around her lips.

"Yup. I don't really think, though, that these are perfect examples of the kind of terrace you always used to talk about," Jim said thoughtfully.

"Hence the 'sort of'," she said quietly, with a smile.

He intertwined his fingers with hers, and stood silently for a while, looking up at the rectangle of pale blue sky above. "Pam?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you stop talking about your terrace?"

She looked at his face, and received a full blast of his beautiful green eyes. They were full of a strange intensity – he wanted to know something about her, something he didn't know already. His expressive face told her that he wanted to know everything about this woman he loved, and he wanted to learn directly from her. This feeling, the feeling that he was inspiring in her now, was one of those feelings that made her life worth living these days.

Pam pondered his question for a while. "It was mainly… well, it was Roy," she said, looking down. "I mean, it was a dream of mine that I had shared with him… I had wanted to live happily ever after with him, and have the house with the terrace… it was a childhood dream, and he was a childhood relationship, I've realized that now."

Jim continued looking at her for a few more seconds, and then gathered her into a strong embrace. She sighed and leaned against his chest. She understood.

They walked out of the cobblestoned alley a few minutes later, the rows and columns of hard concrete terraces behind them.

XXX

"We've still got a half-hour 'till the gallery opens," Jim said, striding up a busy street with Pam in tow. "Do you want to get some lunch before we go in?"

"Yeah, I'm starving. Oh, let's get genuine Philly Cheesesteak sandwiches!" she said excitedly.

"Fantastic. I can have an almost-ham-and-cheese sandwich, even on the weekend and in the city where I'm trying to escape from everything that defines my normal routine," Jim said with mock annoyance. Pam rolled her eyes at him as she dragged him into a Philly Cheesesteak joint.

A few minutes later, Pam and Jim sat a table next to a window that looked out into Independence Park, enjoying the delicious Philadelphian specialty. Jim set down his sandwich, and glanced up at her. She was eating with gusto, clearly enjoying herself. Jim chuckled at her as she picked up yet another napkin to wipe off the bit of cheese that had somehow ended up splayed away from her lip. Pam's eating reverie was broken by the sound of Jim's laughter, and she blushed immediately as she realized what it was he was laughing at.

"Shut up, Halpert," she said, still trying to retain some of her dignity.

Jim leaned back in his chair and surveyed her, his expressive smile still playing around his face. "You're a pretty cute girl, you know that, Pam?"

"Even when I'm near-literally shoving food into my face?" she asked, wiping grease off of her fingers.

Jim nodded. "Yup," he said, and left it at that. They sat in relative silence for the rest of their meal, finishing off their food. Eventually Jim checked his watch. "Wow. Hey Pam, we've only got five minutes 'till the gallery opens. You want to start heading over there?" he asked as he got up and started gathering up their empty plates and cups.

"Yeah, let's hurry – I want to have lots of time," Pam said, her eyes starting to glint in what Jim lovingly referred to as her 'Crazy Artsy Look'. She grabbed his hand, now free of the remains of their lunch, and pulled him back onto the street. Jim smiled to himself as they made their way back to the gallery, as he was reminded of another time in another city when another girl had pulled him across another street. He always felt a stab of guilt when he thought about Karen, but he always knew that he had done the right thing concerning her. He had cared for her, but when true happiness once again became a possibility, even she would have had to admit that it would have been irresponsible and just plain stupid to let that opportunity pass.

Pam strode toward the clear door of the gallery, swinging her arms happily. She threw open the door of the gallery, forgetting that Jim was following her, and letting it slam shut in his face. Pam jumped at the sound and turned around to see Jim bent almost double laughing, rubbing his nose. She joined in his laughter as she pulled the door open again.

"Sorry," she managed to say through her laughter. "I get a bit excited."

"Apparently," he choked out, wiping away reactionary tears.

"C'mon," Pam said, remembering where they were. "Let's critique some art!" She bounded away.

Jim followed more slowly, smiling. "I really can hardly wait."

The two of them wandered around the white hallways of the gallery for almost two hours, Pam insisting on stopping at every painting and examining it closely. Jim, though he did enjoy the art to some extent, kept himself far more amused observing Pam's behavior. This was a side of her he rarely witnessed – the truly enthused Pam, the one that was wholly interested and engaged in what she was doing at that exact moment. He hated Dunder-Mifflin for that – it sucked the life out of Pam, and it sucked the life out of him, for that matter.

He shook the unpleasant thought of his employer out of his mind and tried to find where Pam had wandered off to. He found her in the architecture hallway, admiring a painting of a castle swathed in mist, sitting on high bluffs above a stormy ocean. She hadn't realized he was there yet, and he took the opportunity to watch her observe the painting. She kept tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned forward to get a close look at the colors and brushstrokes. It was exciting for him, to see her like this. He had fallen in love with her at the office – the office was the place where the life and the soul of their relationship, much as he hated to admit it, had been born. But when he saw her outside of that environment – this was what made outings like today so much fun for him. Every time he saw Pam in a different attitude than the subdued secretary of Dunder-Mifflin, he learned something new about her. And there was nothing more important to him than learning everything there was to learn about Pam Beesly.

"You're looking at me again," Pam said with a small smile, meeting Jim's steady gaze.

"Yeah. Sorry," he said, turning his eyes to the painting. "That's a neat one, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it really is! Come and look at the way the colors blend here to create the mist effect! That takes some skill, the way the blue and the white are blended to get that nice grey…" she continued. Jim smiled as he tried his very best to get everything she was saying.

After the castle painting had been analyzed from corner to corner, Pam continued down the architecture hall, pulling Jim steadily along with her. Suddenly, he bumped into her, not realizing that she'd stopped walking. She gasped.

"_Jim!"_ She said, indicating a bright painting. A joy unlike anything Jim had ever seen was revealing itself on her face.

The painting was of a two-story white, wooden house, standing above a green lawn that rolled down to a white beach, and the ocean. The house was small and in the beach house style, with light blue trim and clapboards. The gardens around the edge of the lawn and at the base of the house exploded with the colors of hundreds of different flowers all in bloom. The sky was a shade of blue that only the beach in springtime can provide, reflected in an ocean that sparkled with an unnatural reality.

But all of that, magnificent as it was, was not why Pam had reacted so. Because the house's gently sloping roof had a wide, flat area removed from it, which was clearly accessed from inside the house by way of glass French doors. The doors had light blue clapboards all the way around them, continuing in a low railing around the outer perimeter of the area.

It was a terrace. It was more beautiful than anything Pam had ever imagined – the girl in her favorite childhood story had not a terrace this beautiful, not even close. The flowerboxes all around the perimeter and on the railing exploded with color, made even more vivid by the white wood of the house behind them.

Suddenly, Pam turned away from the painting and sat on one of the viewing benches running the length of all of the halls in the gallery. Jim was immediately by her side. He knew something of what she was feeling right then, especially since their conversation in the alley, but he didn't know what she was thinking or what reaction she may be having. He looked down at her face and was not terribly surprised to see tears there.

Pam leaned her head on his shoulder, sniffling quietly, but smiling a smile so bright it rivaled the way the white house sparkled in the painting behind them.

"It surpasses anything I've ever dreamed of, Jim. _That_ is what I am striving for – I just want to live my life, and have that place where I can return to and work on my plants, and paint them when they bloom. I want that. That… I want to chase my dreams, Jim. I want to chase my dreams, and I think, now that I'm here, with you, I think I've only just realized what that means," she said, gaining strength. After a moment, she stood, wiping the tears from her eyes, and offered Jim her hand. Smiling, he took it.

XXX

Jim and Pam awoke the next morning, the dim sunlight breaking through a crack between the two curtains in front of the window in their hotel room.

After seeing the rest of the gallery the previous afternoon, they had gone to the theatre to see a show, then had dinner and gone to their room, crashing into sleep almost the moments their heads hit pillows after such a long day. Now they were packing up their overnight bags, Pam making up the bed (even though she knew the maids would take the sheets of later anyway), and yelling in to Jim as he brushed his teeth in the bathroom:

"Did you hear that we are supposed to have sunny weather coming pretty soon? I thought it was kind of early, but that's what I think I heard…"

She heard the rhythmic brushing from inside the bathroom stop and become replaced with gargling, and then water splatting into a sink.

"Yeah, that's what I heard, too," Jim said, walking out of the bathroom and rubbing his face down with a towel.

"Well, that's good. Because, whenever we both have a chance, I have somewhere special I want to show you back in Scranton."

Jim tossed the towel onto the bed, and zipped up his overnight bag, hefting it over his shoulder. He looked up at Pam, a curious smile on his face.

"I can't wait."

* * *

_Well, what do you think? Reviewing is the most wonderful thing you can do to brighten my day, to let you know. It _is_ my birthday today, and THE NEW EPISDODE IS TODAY! Those things alone should make you want to review! Anyway, I hope you liked it – I think I do. I know that I like where I'm taking this plot, __and I know that I have the whole story outlined. So there's no excuse for me not to keep going, unless you all tell me it's horrible in reviews. Or if I get no reviews at all. Want more chapters faster? Tell all your friends! Cheers._


	4. A Walk in Spring

_A/N: First, my apologies for the longer-than-a-week gap between updates. My only excuse is that I am an extremely busy high-schooler trying desperately to make a resume that will be acceptable to great universities. So I'm getting my butt kicked with stuff. Oh, and one more reason - 10 reviews for three chapters is depressing. Lots of reviews, this time! Everyone knows that they are the lifeblood of the writer, so if you like the story, tell your friends and stuff! _

_About this chapter... just lots of JAM fluff. Who can get enough of that, anyway? I'll stop talking now. Please enjoy chapter 4 of We Can Go Together, A Walk in Spring!_

_P.S. Did anyone else just FREAK over the fake proposals in "Chair Model"? I, for one, loved them. Yay._

* * *

"Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam."

Jim looked up from his computer at her, smiling a small smile. He glanced at the clock in the corner of his screen, finding that they still had an hour before work ended, and an hour before Pam and he would go to dinner and then to his house for a movie. He moved some papers around on his desk, looking for the record of his latest sale, which he had forgotten to file.

Though it was about four o'clock, the sun still shone brightly through the windows in the conference room and Michael's office and into the main room. April had ridden in early for Pennsylvania, bringing with it slightly warmer weather and some early flowers. Pam had been very excited about all of this, and had been drawing even more fervently lately. Jim looked at the little picture he had framed and set on his desk, a happy feeling soaring into his stomach.

It was, of course, one of Pam's drawings. It wasn't an original work, as she had just redone an especially good photograph of the two of them onto paper in her own hand, but Jim loved it all the same. He was smiling goofily out of the paper, with Pam sitting next to him, her head on his shoulder and her arms wrapped around his neck, smiling radiantly.

Earlier that day, Phyllis had been walking back from bringing a fax to Pam when she had caught sight of the picture and swooned so long over it that Jim had thought he might suffocate due to lack of unperfumed air.

"Aw, Jim, this picture is so great. I am so happy for you both," she had said, smiling maternally at him and Pam in turn. "Are you going to get married soon? I only hope so, because there must be children on the way and wedlock is never pleasant," she said. She looked fondly at him for a few more seconds before returning to her desk. A mortified Jim turned in his chair toward Pam, who was nearly collapsing in fits of giggles at the expression on his face.

"Pam! Pam! I need to see you in here for a minute, please!" Michael's voice came out his office, the tinge of a whine concealed in the requesting tone. Pam stopped giggling abruptly, rolled her eyes at Jim, and walked slowly toward the door to his office.

It was tax day soon. Pam sighed and flexed her fingers in preparation for the forgery to come.

XXX

Jim woke up around ten o'clock the next morning, an unseasonably bright sun gleaming through his window and onto his sheets. Scratching an itch on his leg, he sat up and grabbed the phone off of his bedside table, speed-dialing Pam's apartment. After part of one ring, he heard her eager voice.

"Morning, Jim. Are you ready for our little date?"

"Yeah, I guess," Jim said, smiling at the look of fake indignation he was sure was spreading across her face. "What should I wear?" he said, stifling a yawn.

"Something comfortable – exercise clothes are probably best. Don't worry about looking good at all, you're not seeing too many people besides me today," Pam said happily. Though Jim wouldn't say it, the idea of having another day just with Pam made him feel very warm inside. Ever since their weekend in Philadelphia, they had been counting down the days until Pam would be able to take Jim to the spot she had mentioned in their hotel room.

"I think it's common courtesy to show up at your girlfriend's door not looking like a bum, though. Alright, then. When should I pick you up?" Jim said, smiling around another yawn.

"How about at eleven? That give you enough time?" she asked.

"Sure. See you then."

"See ya," Pam's voice said just before the receiver clicked off.

Jim, still smiling, hung up his phone and set about getting himself ready. After showering and pulling on underwear and shorts, he surveyed his choice of shirts, chucking to himself as he pulled on a certain blue one.

XXX

"We need to go to the grocery store before we head out of town," Pam said as they bumped out of the parking lot of her apartment complex.

"Really? I wonder what that could mean. Shopping spree? Maybe we're getting some beet salad for lunch?" Jim began.

"Shut up. We are, in fact, picking up lunch, but I will kill myself if it has beets involved at all. We're getting a picnic for ourselves. I'll pay for it if you take me out to dinner tonight," Pam said, rolling her eyes at the thought of Dwight.

"Sounds good. Where do you want to go?" he asked, slowing the car as they came to a stoplight. "Oh, we could try that Italian place again. We tried it a few months ago, do you remember…?"

"Wasn't that the day after our first night out? Of course I remember. Dwight was really upset, and you went down to talk to him…" Pam said, smiling at the memory.

"Oh my god, yes. He was really upset over Angela, wasn't he? Wow, I still find it amazing that anyone could be upset over her, but I guess that's the way these things work, isn't it?" Jim said, and for a brief moment, the shadow of a memory passed in front of his eyes.

"Yeah. And then some creep came storming over to reception and kissed me senseless," Pam said, grinning over at him.

"Wow, that must have been terrifying," he replied, holding back laughter himself.

"It seriously was. I thought Angela, speaking of her, was going to kill me."

"That creep must have really felt something for you that day. Maybe it was appreciation."

"Maybe," she said. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I wonder when Angela and Dwight are going to get back together."

"Get back together? I don't think there's really a chance. She still doesn't even look at him," Jim said. There was a silence before Jim realized that Pam was looking at him pityingly. "What?"

"Please, Jim. Twisted as it may sound, they do care for each other. And Angela _hates_ Andy. You know that," she said, looking at him with her eyebrows slightly raised.

"Well, yeah, I guess I did. I don't know. I try not to be too privy to my astoundingly annoying desk mate's love life," Jim said, smirking as he turned into the grocery store parking lot. "Anyway, Angela and Dwight's uncertain relationship notwithstanding, we have got a picnic to shop for. What do you want to get?" He asked. After locking the car, he took Pam's hand and proceeded with her into the store.

"Oh, I don't really know. I'm kind of in the mood for refined foods. Maybe a salad? Oh, and, though they aren't exactly refined, we have to get some mixed berry yogurts," Pam said.

Jim scoffed. "Of course we do. Anyway, let's get to it," Jim said as he grabbed a shopping basket from the stack of them inside the entrance to the store.

XXX

Thirty minutes later found Pam and Jim cruising northward out of Scranton, the windows down and the sun playing music of the kind that only warm, early spring can prompt it to.

"Turn left here," Pam commanded. Jim's hands turned the wheel over and over. As the car accelerated, cool wind blew into the open windows of the SAAB, blowing Pam's ringlets of hair around her head like a sparkling halo. Inside, her hair was brown and quite normal, but in the late morning sunlight, it glittered like amber.

"Will you tell me where we're going now? And why I'm wearing my Dunder-Mifflin Race for the Cure clothes?" Jim said, his smiling voice raised above the buffeting air.

"Just for a little walk," Pam said, smiling contentedly.

Indeed, they were both wearing comfortable clothes, and Pam had her sketching pad on her lap, a pencil hooked onto the spiral binding of it. The road they were now riding curved gently north out of the town of Scranton itself, and deeper into the green hills around the Lackawanna Valley. Their picnic was neatly packed into a basket that Pam had found in the store and insisted on buying ("I _am_ paying for this part!").

After another fifteen minutes (filled with Jim and Pam singing along to their favorite Elton John CD over the wind) Pam directed Jim off the main road, into a nondescript looking turnout.

"This is our stop," she said, opening her door and stepping out into the breezy afternoon, her hair a mess from the wind.

"A… turnout? I don't see what's so special about this place, Pam. I mean, sure, it's pretty, but…" Jim said, walking toward her with very tousled hair.

"Oh, just follow me," she said, taking his hand and stepping away from the road. "Don't forget the picnic."

Jim muttered something to himself about always having to carry stuff as he took the basket out from the back of his car and jogged to catch up with Pam.

At the edge of the turnout there was a low fence, which Pam stepped over, Jim following. On the other side of the fence, there was a hidden trail, curving through the tall grasses of the meadow on the side of the road. The trail curved around the base of a hill and over a ridge in the distance.

As Pam and Jim followed the trail toward the base of the hill, Jim slowly began to realize how wonderful this place was. The sun, which was just reaching its apex, illuminated everything in a white golden light. Every blade of grass that they walked past attempted to catch the eye with a show of glittering silver. The early spring had tempted a spotting of small, white flowers out of the sea of long grass every once in a while.

As they walked, Jim watched his and Pam's shadows trekking along beside their owners. It was interesting to watch the way the grass shone more and more brightly as the shadows approached them, were suddenly extinguished as they walked by, and then burst back to life when they were past. At one point, the trail wound around a great hemlock tree, positively radiant with glittering emeralds of sunlight.

As they drew nearer to the base of the hill, Jim let go of Pam's hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They walked in content silence for a while, enjoying the unseasonable warmth and the expanse of green and white surrounding them. Pam chuckled when Jim switched sides with her so that he could carry the heavy picnic basket in his other hand.

"Is poor Jim tired? Would he like me to carry the basket?" she asked tauntingly, beginning to really laugh now. _It's something about this weather_, she thought. _I can do anything. I really can._

"Don't mock me," Jim replied, blushing slightly but laughing all the same.

By the time they were nearing the other side of the hill and ridge, they were sucking in huge amounts of the clear, bright air. Suddenly, Pam turned around and stopped Jim, laying her open palm on his chest. "Prepare yourself, Jim. This is a really special place, and you should be glad I'm showing someone as unworthy as yourself. I'll tell you the whole story of how I found it a little later, but I will tell you right now that if any other people know it's here, I certainly don't know about them," she said, a gleam in her eye. "Come on. We just have to get to the top of the ridge."

She took his left hand (which had just been vacated by the picnic basket again) and led him up to the crest of the ridge.

Jim's initial reaction to the valley – or was it a meadow – that the surrounding ridges all rolled down into was that it was simply one of the most beautiful places he'd ever seen. This was understandable – the whole valley was covered by lush green grass, interspersed with pink, orange, and white blossoms. Insects flew all about, drinking the sweet juices from the radiant flowers. Everything glittered, the dew's morning signature not yet completely evaporated in the noontime April sun.

And then he realized that this place had a character all its own – it was private. It was thoughtful, it was philosophical and artistic all at the same time. It was Pam's place. She'd loved it for some time, and now she was sharing it with him.

He'd hardly even noticed her slowly leading him around the perimeter of the valley's surrounding ridges while saying nothing, but radiating thoughtfulness and love. Love for this place, and for the man whose hand she was holding.

"Pam… this place is amazing," Jim said, stopping her. His delighted smile spoke volumes to Pam. She knew every expression his infinitely expressive eyes had to give, and she knew that right now, he was absolutely, incandescently happy.

She pulled him down next to her as she sat on the mattress of long meadow grass. "I thought you'd appreciate it. For all of your sarcasm, I'm proud that I can find the sap in you," she said, her smile glittering in the sun.

He laughed. "Yeah, but it's only you. For anyone else, it's sarcastic, unmotivated Jim Halpert."

"I don't think that you are unmotivated. I think that you are confused as to where life is taking you."

"A year ago, that would have been exactly correct. But now, I think you're actually wrong about some of your analysis."

"Oh? What's changed?" Pam asked, and it was clear to Jim that she was angling for a certain response, judging by the slightly manipulative shine in her eyes. He'd seen it before, of course, but in this meadow, everything was electrified, magnified.

"Now I have you. And I'm in love with you. And I need you to know, every day. Not just once," he said, looking straight at her, his eyes shining.

Pam Beesly looked at Jim Halpert, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

XXX

"What a great picnic! Wow. Goat cheese. Pam, you truly are the turtleneck-wearing artsy-fartsy girl," Jim said, smirking at her.

"Well, that's what you have to deal with, I guess. Because goat cheese is delicious, and I don't care if it's a nerdy food," she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

Jim laughed as he reached for another piece of bread, and the knife to spread the cheese onto it. "I like refined food. It makes me think I'm richer than I actually am," he said.

"Well Jim, hopefully someday you will be able to eat all the goat cheese you want."

"It wouldn't be as fun without you there, I'm afraid."

"I never said I wouldn't be there."

"Oh, right. I just thought it went unsaid that you'd be long dead by the time I had anywhere near enough money to buy food like this all the time."

"I hate you."

After a few moments, Jim glanced up at Pam, a smile on his face. "Well, if you're done hating me, would you like to tell me how you found this place?"

Pam laughed. "Sure. Though it is a little bit sad, so I hope you're in the mood to deal with that kind of a conversation right now."

He scoffed. "Always. Well, spill. How did you find this place?"

She hesitated a while, watching a butterfly fluttering about a pink blossom. "Like many of the problems I had over the past few years, the problem that led me to this place was caused by Roy."

Jim glanced at her sharply, a tiny residual venom still being aroused within him at the mention of Roy's name.

"It was just one of those days. A Saturday, like today, really sunny and beautiful. I had woken up early, and was making us both coffee. He came down and told me he was going to spend the day with his friends. It wouldn't have been a big deal. He used to do that all the time. But there was something about that morning that spurred me into action. Maybe it was the fact that I'd made him coffee and he hadn't even asked for any. He hadn't even wondered if I had cared enough to do a good little turn for him.

"Anyway, like I say, he left, and I was a little bit angry with him for that. So I picked up my art pad and my car keys and just… drove. I wanted to get out of Scranton, but I didn't want to go to the city. I didn't want to see anyone. I just wanted to explore, to see something new. I think it had to do with my own sense of inertia, my own sense that I was stuck and wasn't really going anywhere physically right then, or with my life. I wanted to go somewhere, and to see something new. So I drove north.

"I drove until I stopped at the turnout, the same one we stopped at back there. I got out, and I walked. I didn't know where I thought I was going, and I didn't really care. I saw the hill we just came down, and I wanted to see what was on the other side of it – all of this was really weird, I just felt compelled to do it all. So I went up there, and came down into here. It was summer then, the summer a year before you went to Stamford, so it wasn't quite as nice as it is today, but it was stunning all the same. And I just drew, and thought about everything. I thought about Roy, I thought about… well, I thought about you a lot, Jim. I thought about the office and Scranton and New York and Albany and I thought about all these things, and all these places I could go. I thought about Europe, and, and different people, and um… I just, well, I don't know. When I got home that night, Roy was waiting for me, and he asked me where I'd been, and I told him I'd just gone out and drawn some. He didn't ask to see the drawing.

"Anyway, that night, when I was looking over my drawing, I realized that something was going to have to change. Something was going to have to change in my life, and, though you wouldn't tell me so until about six months later, that I was going to have to take a chance on something, sometime. And I was scared, because I didn't know what it was going to be. The feeling passed eventually, of course, and life went on as usual. But whenever I felt that, this was the place I came. This was where I ultimately decided that I was going to call off the wedding with Roy, right after you transferred to Stamford.

"Anyway… it's a special place for me. And I'm glad you've gotten to see it… and I'm really sorry about how long I just talked for. I know you don't like feelings too much," she finished with a laugh.

Jim laughed. "No, I appreciate it. When it comes to your feelings, I do want to hear about them. I just don't like other peoples'. So, thank you for telling me all of that. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you, and this place. It sounds like it helped you through some pretty rough stuff." He sat quietly for a moment, stroking the back of her hand.

In the wake of her confession, they sat eating bread and salad for some time longer as the sun began its slow, long fall westward. As they finished up their lunch, Jim gathered together all of the trash, and put it back into the now much-lighter picnic basket.

He sat with Pam a long while, watching as the sparking light of the meadow turned incrementally from white to gold. After a while, Pam took up her drawing pad, and unhooked the pencil from the spiral binding. She began to sketch.

From the pencil's tip came a likeness of the meadow as beautiful and characterized as the picture that was framed on Jim's desk. Out of it came ridges, and the vast sky behind them. Popcorn clouds. Gentle slopes down into a meadow. Thousands of blades of grass, hundreds of blooms. Pam's eyes were completely focused on the paper sitting upon her lap, and the tool of expression scratching and gliding its way across it. The picture developed. The background came to life, and gave way to the foreground. The man on her right was quiet, laying back in the grass. His eyes dropped shut as the foreground came to meet him, the right hand corner of the page still blank.

Pam brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes as she looked at the only man she would ever truly love, asleep in the meadow beside her. His slightly shaggy hair fell all about his face, his bright blue shirt a tiny bit small for him. One arm was up near his eyes, a remnant from blocking the sun in wakefulness. The other arm was dropped at his side, the hand draped across his stomach.

She filled the lower-right hand corner of her paper. When she finished, the picture was one of love. He was laying there, innocent and asleep, against a backdrop of somewhere that had belonged to her, but now belonged to both of them. She set the pad down next to her, and looked up to the western sky. Her shadow had lengthened now, and was falling across Jim's chest.

_No, I don't know what the future holds. But I'm optimistic._

She had said those words while letting go. Now, she said them with such strength and conviction that she knew she would never stop living by them. She knew she could do anything, with him. She looked back down at her drawing.

_Yes_, she thought. _I can win this game_.

XXX

The sun had dropped below the horizon as Jim and Pam walked out of their favorite Italian restaurant.

"Wow. It was even better the second time," Jim said, glancing back at the restaurant.

"Yeah, it was really good," Pam replied. Jim opened the passenger door of his car for her. "Well, thank you, Mr. Halpert."

"My pleasure," he said before shutting the door and going around the drivers' side. "Today was amazing, Pam, and thanks again for showing me that place. It was fantastic," he said as he backed out of his parking place. "I'll be a good boy and take you home now. Do you think you'll be in on time?"

"Well, I don't know. What time is it? Nine!? Boy, Jim, my parents are going to give it to you," Pam said, sniggering. "But I'm feeling especially flirty with danger tonight. Why don't we just… not go home?"

Jim laughed. "What's that?"

"Well, not to _my_ home, anyway."

"Pam!" He mocked shock. "Are you trying to tell me that you would like to share my bed tonight?"

"If I were?"

Jim laughed, dropping the act. "I would love it. You've got it, Beesly."

XXX

"Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam. Yes, I'll transfer," she said, pressing Michael's extension.

A few minutes later, Michael came out of his office, looking very happy about something.

"Well, slaves, I have an announcement to make… That's not to say you all are of slave origin. I'm just… anyway, I have an announcement. My contact down in Jersey came up positive with a group pass, all expenses paid to the Great Adventure Amusement Park! So, what I'm saying is that one week from 

today, we will be having an office field trip to New Jersey, for a day of fun and games! And riding roller coasters! And that's what she said!"

There was a silence, broken only by Dwight punching the air in delight.

"Isn't Great Adventure in… Jackson?" Jim asked, his eyebrows raised slightly, and clearly while fighting off despair.

"Yeppers."

"Are you aware that Jackson is almost three hours away from Scranton?"

Michael gave him a stern look. "Jim, if you don't like it, you can just not go. Keep Toby company or something, " and with that, he turned back into his office.

Jim swiveled toward reception, sighing deeply. Pam looked back at him, smiling slightly, and shrugged.

_It could be fun. _

* * *

_Y__ou __know what to do! Next chapter: The Amusement Park. It shall be funny and delightful. Well... I hope._


End file.
